on the pulse - 2021 - #19 - alessia cara, poppy, carly pearce, turnstile, big red machine, red velvet

It feels a little weird being back to a more conventional episode of this series – I might do another genre specific episode soon, those are surprisingly fun to assemble, but in the mean time, let’s get On The Pulse!

Red Velvet - Queendom - So here’s something you probably would not expect: when I went back through Red Velvet’s back catalog in preparation for this EP review, I was surprised just how much I liked them. Seriously - colourful but well-composed and balanced with solid, R&B-inspired harmonies, going off of their albums they kind of reminded me of a k-pop Little Mix, which is absolutely a compliment. But also had me worried going into this project because I know what happened to Little Mix with the shifts in mainstream pop, especially with the reviews being a little more lukewarm than I’d like. And that’s unfortunately kind of true with this EP, which isn’t bad because Red Velvet still has the rock-solid vocal harmonies and a solid foundation in pop/R&B that gives them a high floor, but you can also tell this is a band that stuck with the jingling, trap-inflected, percussion-dense late 2010s pop sound that crippled Little Mix’s LM5 and it doesn’t always play to their more colourful melodic strengths. Now to their credit, I’d argue on average their production is a bit more consistent and polished, with a bit more attention paid to the bass grooves, and lyrically the group doesn’t embarrass themselves splitting between a few empowerment flexes and a small relationship arc spread across the last four tracks, a few odd references on ‘Knock On Wood’ notwithstanding and more than made up for on ‘Hello Sunset’ which flips into what almost sounds like an early 80s R&B flip. But overall it’s just a bit more muted than it needs to be, which holds back the few good songs we get from being truly great. So… solid 6/10, very likable, but Red Velvet have done better and this just doesn’t have the moments that put it over the top.

Big Red Machine – How Long Do You Think It’s Gonna Last? – In all due fairness, I had good excuse to ignore Big Red Machine the first time – oh look, a collab from Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon following their most jittery, electronically enhanced albums to date, neither of which I liked all that much… which going back to this project’s debut, also proved true. But how was I supposed to predict that both artists would wind up making friends with Taylor Swift, or sliding back towards their more organic indie material that made them in the early 2010s, which in certain circles seemed to be picking up a bit of a premature nostalgia cycle? Well, what we got was a collaborator-studded project sprawling over an hour, so I wanted to give this some time to fully sink in…and now that I have, it annoys me that I don’t like it more. What I find interesting is how conversational this album feels – our frontmen are tired and pensive, they’re wearily staring out into the middle distance of their past and present, asking fractured questions of how much any of it matters and trying to stubbornly cling to fleeting control even despite the losses of those around them… and nearly every guest star is a voice echoing in to challenge that scene, all amidst spiky guitar work, choppy percussion spanning drum machines and some more developed and well-micced live drums, and fractured autotune and vocal mixing. Which shouldn’t be a surprise – at this point we can expect what a Dessner / Vernon collab will sound like in terms of buttery, liquid textures split by its stuttering grooves and very few moments that rise above the soft-focus midtempo – but what did surprise me was just how much an album like this needed the gut shots that artists like Taylor Swift on ‘Renegade’ or even Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes provided on ‘Phoenix’ with more of a distinct, direct presence cutting through the ennui. It’s Kimbra’s verse on Gotye’s ‘Somebody That I Used To Know’, that for all of the plaintive navel-gazing and whinging there’s other people in the picture, and where this album gets any impact is highlighting the complicated emotional dynamic that comes with their messy interactions – hell, by ‘New Auburn’ you get the impression that how much we need each other in this fleeting world might have been something close to a loose thematic point. But those moments are very few and far between, especially on a languid project with no momentum and few points that really break out of the mist – say what you will about a band as willowy as SUNDAYS, but they at least care to write stronger hooks that’ll be more actively self-critical, and don’t have to rely so heavily on Justin Vernon’s higher-pitched warble, or Aaron Dessner mostly unremarkable delivery. And then there’s the songwriting missteps I can’t ignore, like how ‘Magnolia’ is trying to comfort a friend who has been abused by a partner and its peppy sense of upbeat cheer feels lacking intimacy and utterly misplaced, or how we get a tribute to the late Frightened Rabbit singer Scott Hutchinson that feels utterly bloodless and distant, more about how the death impacted them rather than celebrating his legacy – Coldplay fumbled this too and it was as frustrating. But that sense of hazy distance is all over this album, where you hear glimpses of the shoe to drop but it never truly hits – in other words, I could call this the definition of a side project, but when Matt Berninger did the EL VY project in 2015, he… well, deconstructed the entire soft-focus, self-serving veneer to which this album feels like a deliberate early 2010s throwback, with a few great tunes but not enough to save it. 6/10… folks, I gave this a month… I really wanted to like this more.

Turnstile - GLOW ON - going into hardcore with this one… well, mostly hardcore, as this Baltimore band began switching up the sound with fragments of post-hardcore and even Rage Against The Machine-esque rap rock to go in more off-kilter directions almost immediately, to really promising results, mostly because this is a band with a pop sensibility to go along with bruising impact. And this is probably the album that pushes that glossy contrast to its limit, not just keeping up the hardcore riffs and breakdowns in song structure – albeit cleaned up a bit courtesy of production from Mike Elizondo, but still impeccably balanced with some killer basslines from Franz Lyons and glossy analog keyboards integrated with the brighter guitar leads – but also by bringing in more clean vocal lines, complex groove passages and breakdowns, and even Dev Hynes of Blood Orange to sing and contribute to the dreamy vibe that always serves as a burbling counterbalance. What it reminds me most of are the fluttery balance between pop textures and pummelling aggression that we got snippets of on Paradise by White Lung five years ago, but Turnstile’s approach feels more wide-ranging than even that while still maintaining that hardcore sense of tightness, from the languid, sputtering haze of psychedelia with the occasional vocals from Julien Baker to burbling touches of modern indie pop, which might be why they let some of the goofier handclaps sneak in. Now I will say that there’s a part of me that wishes the old grisly heaviness existed in more stark contrast with the poppier elements – push more of a Rolo Tomassi vibe, maybe - or that said pop elements led to slightly more defined hooks, as I can’t quite escape the feeling of compromise instead of a true synthesis of their strengths – but that’s nitpicking especially when the hooks are still pretty damn solid, the production is everything I wished The Armed was earlier this year, and when you delve into themes, it does seem to fit. Turnstile have been cagey when it comes to describing their writing, but in exploring the conscious split between the visceral now and whatever might come next, so we need to fill the hole with whatever vibrant spirit and power we can, this sound does encapsulate that intent. Overall, just a really damn solid genre fusion – I’m not quite as over the moon about it as some hardcore and indie fans are, because I’ve seen this approach with a little more crunch and lyrical meat, but I also can’t deny how pure ear candy this project can be, so light 8/10. Not sure where the hell Turnstile go from here, but I did enjoy this filling in a void.

Carly Pearce - 29: Written In Stone - So when I covered ‘Next Girl’ on Billboard BREAKDOWN a few weeks back, I articulated some of my frustrations with Carly Pearce as a mainstream country act - she had a solid voice, reasonably good taste in production with above average writing, the sort of act I would normally wholeheartedly endorse… and yet I’ve never been as into her sound as I’d like to be, and going through her back catalog I think I’ve identified why: investment. This is where Pearce’s technical refinement has wound up paradoxically hurting her a bit, because it’s always seemed to place her at a bit of a distance from her material, preventing that added bit of texture from really coalescing to sell these moments - she sounds like the sort of act who had it all figured out, even getting married to a fellow country star, and in a Nashville country framework, that’s almost a guaranteed pipeline to consistent mid-level success. And then this happened, where in the wake of the death of her long-time producer busbee and her divorce to Michael Ray, we get an expansion of her 29 EP with a slew of new songs for the sort of focused divorce album that placed stylistically closer to output from the Pistol Annies – ergo, no surprise that this is handily her best album to date! And it’s really an improvement across the board: the autobiographical subtext means Pearce allows herself to sound a bit more visceral, the perfect veneer audibly cracking so the emotionality feels more real, which is a great compliment for production that brings more twang, neotraditional fiddle and pedal steel, slightly rougher guitars, and even vocal production where there’s a little more grit – not always to her benefit, it can feel a little awkwardly mastered on a few songs. And bringing in Ashley McBryde and Brandy Clark to join Natalie Hemby as cowriters adds a different edge that’s very welcome – aka, an actual edge. But what I think sets this project apart from the traditional breakup album is what Pearce brings herself: beyond the fact that her writing has always been willing to embrace scenes with more complicated and messy framing, highlighting the culpability of both herself and her ex, what’s all the more effective is that you can tell Pearce had a plan for where she wanted to be at my age, the breakup was never a part of it, and she’s desperately trying to hold it all together – ‘29’ winds up a pretty devastating song in that regard, and it’s probably her best. Maybe not as messy or explosive as Miranda Lambert cutting ‘Mama’s Broken Heart’, but on some level that feels more human and real for someone as methodical in untangling the mess as Pearce is. That being said, there are some issues that I can’t really overlook – I don’t understand why Nashville labels push the ‘EP then combine with more tracks to make a full project’ approach outside of stream trolling because it can make the album feel a little bloated, and while it’s not as bad as Lauren Alaina’s last project it’s still somewhat true here. And more to the point, I feel like this project is a bit transitional– she’s a distinctive songwriter and is becoming a more interesting performer, but the last step is making her sound her own; her great songs are among the best of mainstream country this year, but her midtier album tracks need a bit more uniqueness in tone or production to launch her to another level beyond just the expected sound from Music Row. That said, this is a legit surprise and a pretty great album – light 8/10, congratulations to Carly Pearce for getting me onboard, I can’t wait to hear where you go from here.

Poppy – Flux – I remember being generally middling on I Disagree, mostly because it felt like an inelegant attempt to conclude the weird pop-metal cult trajectory formed from her first two projects – perhaps more transitional in a full breakaway from Titanic Sinclair which led to a compromised project, but it wasn’t one that really wowed me, especially as it felt some of her grooves had been compromised in favour of the heaviness. But fine, I was at least curious to hear Flux, given that after that weird noise experiment she was going to try for more conventional, streamlined alt-rock… and that is pretty much what we got, all things considered, for better and worse. Let me start by saying that if you were expecting the alt-metal heaviness of previous projects, in working with Justin Meldel-Johnsen Poppy has given up some of that crushing texture for the more defined melodic grooves I’ve been begging for her to reintroduce for years now – although there’s enough pummelling breakdowns to show she’ll still use them for impact, like with ‘On The Level’ – and paradoxically, even if this feels ‘lighter’ overall, I’d argue this album can execute its heavier moments more effectively within the context of sharper compositions. But that means if you were enamoured with the uncanny weirdness she cultivated through YouTube or her first album with more synths and pop elements… well, this is easily her furthest from that and as such this is probably the album that is most authentically ‘her’, but the album does wind up sounding a little more conventionally late 90s / 2000s alternative rock as a result, and Poppy is still not exactly a dynamic or punchy presence behind the microphone, not helped by being mixed a bit quieter than I’d prefer – although funnily enough it does feature some uncredited vocals from George Clarke of Deafheaven on the last track and his screaming sounds more visceral than it did on the last Deafheaven album. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the most direct comparison is Garbage, and I will say that at least on subject matter Poppy is more interesting and potent: self-identity has been a focal point of her past few albums, and here it feels like she’s got the firmest grip on it to date: a constantly shifting, passionate vortex barely contained within an industry that wants to box her in, where she’s reclaiming her agency and trying to grapple with her depths of emotion that seem to even spook her a bit. Now it’s nice to see she’s found some sort of focal point of tranquility within that storm by the end, but expanding to the rest of the album… eh, I think it’s probably her best since Poppy.Computer in terms of pure focused compositions, but I do think it peaks early and even as the more atmospheric passages were impressive, I think I would have liked a more potent performance to really put them over the top. So very solid 7/10, definitely worth hearing if you want to check out Poppy’s newest direction… well, for now.

Alessia Cara – In The Meantime - …you know, I was prepared to ignore this altogether, or at least veto it – I mean, who still cares about Alessia Cara, where even in Canada the hits are starting to run dry and she wasn’t really that interesting to begin with in comparison with her peers. Granted, there’s a lot of factors that aren’t really her fault: she couldn’t have predicted the rise of the other teenage starlets who brought more intensity and experimentation to the table and actually seemed to have the support of their label, which highlights the larger issue with Alessia Cara in that nobody in Def Jam seems to have a clue what to do with her, especially when her more transitional sophomore album seemed to focus more on more sober, thoughtful, adult alternative and have some promise. Plus she does have a fanbase – I’m still shocked to this day my Alessia Cara reviews have gotten as much traction as they have – so I’ll admit I was curious where she wound up… and yet with this, I’m puzzled where the hell she looking to go with this. Half of the ‘feel’ of this album is languid, pulling on touches of cod-reggae and the sort of coffeehouse adult alternative that she was starting to explore on her second album, placed alongside more elaborately orchestrated bedroom pop tones that dabble with bassy R&B and hip-hop that remind me of her breakthrough except minus No ID so just not sounding as good – and the common thread between these two styles is a level of internally composed intensity and texture that I’m not sure Alessia Cara quite has. Once again it feels like a case where she’s absolutely got the ambition to approach more sophisticated material, but I’m not sure the execution has enough to get there. And while some of this is on Cara who sounds like she’s playing to increasingly prim and detached pop and just doesn’t have the expressive texture to sell the styles she’s attempting – I might not really care for Arlo Parks but she nails a lot of what Cara does far better – but a lot of the production feels desaturated, inorganic, and monochromatic, especially in its spare melodies that rarely stand out and make an already long and scattered album feel a lot longer. But this could normally be anchored by great writing, normally a saving grace for Alessia Cara’s material… and yet the more listens I gave this, the less I was gripped. Part of this has the feel of a quarantine album, where during lockdown Alessia Cara used this time to dig deep and explore the contradictions of her passions and urges, but it doesn’t mine much in the way of unique insight out of it, a lot of muted clash and not enough resonant payoff… which might as well have been the story of her past few projects. Now I can’t blame her for all of this – ‘Sweet Dream’ is a terrible lead-off single, her label seems to treat her with casual disinterest, and we’ve already seen how the ‘quarantine record’ might age poorly or at least have a limited shelf life when you realize just how little can be mined from a tedious experience – but this album feels like a boring wallow with promise that just falls flat, an isolated bubble of experience that without a killer hook or three fades remarkably quickly. 5/10, you’ll likely forget this came out this year.